


A Midsummer Night's Dream

by SnowyWolff



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Blood and Injury, Faeries - Freeform, Fairy Tale Curses, M/M, Shakespeare Shall Haunt Thee As He Haunts Me, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23754355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowyWolff/pseuds/SnowyWolff
Summary: Four days will quickly steep themselves in night;Four nights will quickly dream away the time;And then the moon—like to a silver bowNow bent in heaven—shall behold the nightOf our solemnities.
Relationships: Lithuania/Poland (Hetalia)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	A Midsummer Night's Dream

**Author's Note:**

> based on like the vibe of Shakespeare’s _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_. just faeries and curses and somft romance,,,, sort of anyway
> 
> thanks to ivan for giving me that sweet sweet inspo bc my brain was just yelling that it wanted to write lietpol without offering any sort of plot to go with it 💜💜💜

_What thou seest when thou dost wake,_

_Do it for thy true love take;_

_Love and languish for his sake._

_Be it ounce or cat or bear,_

_Pard, or boar with bristled hair,_

_In thy eye that shall appear_

_When thou wak_ _’st, it is thy dear._

_—_ Oberon casting a spell on Titania in _A Midsummer Night_ _’s Dream_.

***

As the sun began its descent toward the horizon, granting the day its final rays of warmth and absolving the obligations forgotten or neglected during its shine, the faeries were still abuzz within the palace. There was chattering, and gossip, and grumbles, and suggestions, and “My Lord, have you eaten yet?”s.

Tolys was exhausted. The whole day had been wearing on him, starting with dealing with the fae folk to the west with their loud prince who could not stop talking even when eating (and while Prince Alfred was a kind soul, he had a strong stance on his forest’s politics and often expected others to bend to his will) and ending with cleaning up the mess of mischief that Gilbert had gotten up to while left unwatched. Luckily, the former could be persuaded by empty promises of grandeur, and the latter by the sour garden faerie who seemed to be the only person who held an ounce of authority over the puck, so now all that was left were dreadfully boring politics.

Natalya was picking her nails beside Tolys as Eduard talked about the status of their foreign policies. On his other side, Hedvika was folding intricate paper birds, which she blew to the other side of the table where Cyril continuously batted them down. Honestly, the only person who seemed to pay Eduard genuine attention was Ivan, so Tolys penned himself a memo to call Ivan in for a briefing the next day; they needed to discuss the flowers for the eastern garden anyway.

Eduard met Tolys’ eyes and, in the midst of talking about the news of an underground revolution coming from the far north, Eduard redirected the meeting toward a conclusion, promising to pick up tomorrow. Relief swept the room, and Ivan seemed to have caught onto Tolys’ mood, meeting him at the door and gladly obliging to Tolys’ request.

Finally free for the moment, Tolys attempted to sneak away to his room, only to be intercepted by Ludwig, who, despite getting up at the crack of dawn, still had the boundless energy to rattle off a bunch of proposals and reforms until Tolys was saved by Iryna.

“I feel we need to stage an intervention,” she said as she flew him to his quarters.

“For the puck, maybe,” Tolys answered, though he was too tired to add humour to his tone. “Normally, it’d be fine. Today was just particularly brutal. And we both know court life never sleeps.”

Iryna hummed, unconvinced. “That it might not. But our king surely does.”

They stopped in front of the large double doors to his quarters.

She gave him a long look as he placed his hand on the solid wood, tracing the carving of wildflowers and poppies he had commissioned years before. “Hopefully.”

He gave her a tired twitch of his lips, something supposed to be a smile, and she bowed her goodnight, gliding away and leaving Tolys alone.

Slipping inside his dark and unlit room, he knew he should rest, the soft sheets of his bed beckoning for him to curl into them and be dead to the world for the remainder of the night. But the moon shone through the pearlescent drapes that covered his window, illuminating a world free of politics and local squabbles. 

Fluttering over, he leaned on the sill and breathed in the intoxicating smell of moonflowers. It had been so long since he had last flown outside of the palace simply for his own pleasure and peace of mind. He missed the days where he had been free. No politics, no court, nothing that kept him apart from the earth that still wished to whisper her secrets to him. He heard them, in the wind, in the streams, in the chitter of forest creatures. He longed to return to her.

When he had accepted the position as Faerie King, he had accepted on the term of it being temporarily. He had been a wanderer, but they, Eduard and Ivan, had tracked him down due to a prophecy made during the final days of their former king. They had been certain it had spoken of Tolys as the two had previously gotten to know him during a pilgrimage to the east, so they had come and begged him to at least fill in until a new king could be decided. Tolys had reluctantly agreed because the moon had told him it was the right thing to do, warning of growing instability and conflict.

But now, six years of stabilizing their government and their state, no one spoke of replacing Tolys anymore. People seemed to assume he had become complacent in his part of fate. Perhaps he had. Even now, with the taste of freedom on his lips, he hesitated. Could he simply leave? Was it still possible? Would the earth accept his return or would she turn him back, a traitor to his own people and beliefs?

Tolys closed his eyes, slowly releasing the window sill and drawing back. Closing the curtains, he turned toward his bed, arguing it was better for everyone if he went to sleep now. Clear these delirious thoughts of running away. The morning would yield a new day and Tolys would discuss it with everyone then, like a responsible adult.

The wind pushed the curtains apart.

Tolys paused, his heart aching.

The moon beckoned.

***

The grass was still wet from the light rain that had showered their forest in the afternoon. Tolys had his toes buried in the dirt, boots left by the bushes of his window. His heavy garbs he had left on the bed, a thin coat and tunic no match for the chill of the night air, which was welcomed nonetheless.

Slowly, Tolys began to walk, just because he could, because no one would give him strange looks. His wings twitched, but he ignored the urge to take his weight off of his feet. Picking up the pace, he soon found himself running, leaping over roots and rocks.

Laughing wildly, even as leaves tangled in his hair, branches snagged on his coat and his feet began to hurt, Tolys ran and ran and ran. The wind whipped his hair, the moonlight illuminated his path, and the night urged him onward. Finally, he tripped with a shriek, rolling in wildflowers, sighing as he gazed up at the moon.

“It’s been too long,” he whispered fondly, reaching beside him to caress the flowers he could reach. Their sweet fragrance was nostalgic and he picked one, whispering a soft prayer as he snapped its stem.

It was then that he became aware of a soft whimpering. Putting the flower in a button hole, Tolys pushed himself up, the moon guiding his eyes toward the forest edge. There, partially hidden in the bushes, lied a boar. Thin and underfed, an arrow stuck in its side—the poor creature must have had an unfortunate encounter with a hunter.

Tolys knelt a safe distance away, wary of its tusks. But the boar did not startle, even as Tolys carefully reached out a hand to grasp a tusk. Gently, he slid his fingers along it, slowly moving around to its side. He was surprised to find the boar following his movements, not in alarm, but in curiosity. Looking into its eyes, he couldn’t discern a wild animal there. They held something too intelligent, too aware.

Unnerved, Tolys glanced back at the moon. The wind rustled around him, but she was quiet, as if anticipating his next move.

Was it a test? To see if he could still return to her guidance? To see if he had changed?

Had he changed?

He owed the moon so much. She had found him when he had been lost, confused with his body being one way yet his mind telling him it should be another. His own community had shunned him for it, so he had wandered and wandered and wandered, not knowing where to go, what to do with himself. When hope had left him, staring at his reflection in the water, a knife clenched in his fist, aimed at his heart, she had stilled him.

From then on he had walked the forests, travelling far and wide, helping, healing, caring, guiding in her stead. She had helped him meet people like him and given him the opportunity to change part of his appearance to match the gender he truly was, the two scars on his chest marks he wore proudly.

But the moon had quieted after he had accepted the position of Faerie King. He had sometimes asked for her guidance, but no answer would come, and he would have to trust his intuition. Even now, while she might have arranged his meeting the boar, there was nothing but his own thoughts.

The boar squealed as Tolys moved his hand around the wound, grabbing the arrow with his other. He would have to work quickly to stop the bleeding. He hadn’t practised healing magic in a while, and healing animals was always a little different from healing faeries, so it would be a risk. Even so, even if something went wrong, a quick death would be much more merciful than slowly bleeding out.

Still, before he could commit, he glanced into the boar’s eyes again. They were clouded with pain and acceptance, and the creature made a huffy kind of noise as Tolys continued to look at it.

“Take a deep breath,” he said, feeling odd, “and it’ll be over.”

To his surprise, or perhaps not, the boar did, and Tolys pulled out the arrow in one smooth movement, covering the wound with his free hand and muttering an incantation. The magic came to him slowly, and blood seeped through his fingers, but once he had a grasp on it, he directed it toward the wound, breathing a startled gasp as he encountered much more magic than any creature should possess. It wasn’t of a fae-like quality, not really. It was thick and cloudy, like miasma.

“You’re cursed,” Tolys muttered as the dark magic tried to latch onto his own. Cursed yet still fighting it; Tolys could feel the underlying magic trying to push the curse out. Tolys could help. He could extract it. It would be risky, but…

He could feel the faerie, a gentle soul, scared but stubbornly clinging to life.

Tolys had to try.

Breathing deeply, he allowed the curse to latch onto his magic, just enough for it to release the other’s temporarily. Tolys wanted to move back, make sure the curse could not return to its former host, but a hand grabbed his retreating one, strong fingers intertwining with his own.

Finding a pair of bright green eyes trained on his own, Tolys couldn’t draw away. He was bound to this stranger—though the term did not seem fitting, for their connection now felt too intimate, too familiar, too warm to be anything but a relationship with someone he had known for years upon years.

The warm touch of the other’s magic urged Tolys onward and together they closed in on the curse, overpowering it easily, ripping it apart petal for petal and dissipating it into the wind, who scattered the pieces to desolate places where they could not taint again.

Still, the magic between them stayed, almost as if afraid to let go, a desperation from someone who had been clutched by a curse and someone who hadn’t ever felt as close as a connection as he had with the other. But slowly, ever so slowly, their magic let go, returned them to themselves, and finally vanished, leaving the caress of a gentle kiss on their souls.

Tolys shivered, wishing he had brought a cloak. More so as he opened his eyes and found a naked young man sat in front of him, the only colour on his pale skin that of the rivets of blood that rolled from the wound on his shoulder. The young man was shaking wildly, blinking open bleary eyes that stared at Tolys in mild confusion.

Then, he glanced down at himself, ran his hands over his body in wonder, and let out an elated laugh. It was a cute sound, a little unexpected too, causing Tolys to chuckle softly in response.

Startled, the other looked at him and blushed furiously. “Don’t stare!”

Tolys hid a snort behind his hand, but glanced away nonetheless as he shrugged off his coat.

The faerie snatched it from his hands.

“I’m Tolys,” he said, filling the silence, still not looking. He gazed up at the moon instead, but her silence persisted.

“Feliks,” murmured the other. “Okay, you can, like, look now.”

Tolys smiled gently as he looked at Feliks. The coat was hardly decent, but it covered enough. The blood still seeped through the sleeve, however, and Tolys gestured toward it.

“May I?”

Feliks nodded after a moment’s hesitation, turning his shoulder toward Tolys, who gently grabbed his arm and rested his other hand on the wound, apologizing as Feliks winced. This time, the magic came easily and there was no curse simmering underneath the surface. Tolys squashed the stab of disappointment he felt when there was no warm magic to greet him, breathing out slowly as he focused on stitching the skin back together. When he was done, he moved back, pausing when Feliks caught his eyes.

Swallowing, Feliks said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Tolys dipped his head in acknowledgement.

Biting his lip, Feliks hesitated for a moment. “For removing the curse too. You could’ve, like, let me die. So, thanks for not doing so.”

Tolys observed him quietly for a moment. “Why would I have let you die?”

“Why do you think I was shot in the first place?” Feliks countered, pushing his hair behind his ear, frustrated. “Cursed in mind, cursed in body. Ever since I was born. Then they grew tired of waiting and put this one on me too, just so they could have an excuse to finally get rid of me.”

Tolys frowned. He wanted to move closer to the other, but wasn’t sure whether he could. Instead, he reached out his hand, palm open, a silent invitation.

“Then, I’m glad to have found you,” he said gently.

Feliks looked at the offered hand, holding his own against his chest. He chewed on his lip again.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I used to think so too, that I was cursed.” Tolys smiled sadly. “But the moon guided me, and now I guide others. Or, well, I used to. I got distracted.”

“The moon?” Feliks glanced up at her, frowning. “How can the moon guide people? It’s a _rock_.”

Tolys laughed, throwing back his head as he did. He hadn’t laughed so loudly in forever and found it difficult to stop even as Feliks continued to frown at him.

“Perhaps,” Tolys eventually managed, still chuckling. “But not to me.”

“Yuck.”

Surely he must have laughed enough already? Tolys reflected, trying to smother the sound with his hand. And perhaps Feliks thought so too because he reached out and took Tolys’ hand away, making his breath catch in his throat at the touch of magic that sparked between them.

Feliks’ eyes flicked to Tolys’ and he blushed, but did not release his grip, instead linking his sleek fingers with Tolys’.

“She hasn’t spoken to me in years,” Tolys admitted quietly. “I feel a little lost if I’m being frank.”

“How rude,” Feliks said, shooting a look up at the moon. When he glanced back at Tolys, however, his gaze held something admonishing. “But why does some rock need to tell you what to do with your life? It’s _your_ life, right?”

Tolys opened his mouth, closed it again, and stared at Feliks.

“Well… yes,” he said eventually, dumbly. “I… I suppose it is.”

“Then do something with it,” Feliks said, as if it was the most logical thing in the world. “If I can’t be bound down by curses, you can’t be by something as silly as the moon. Honestly.” He huffed.

Tolys chuckled softly. “And how do you know?”

Feliks’ eyes were as bright as, if not brighter than, the moon. “Because I can feel it.” He squeezed Tolys’ hand, scooting a little closer. “You’re meant to be free.”

Tolys swallowed, worried he might drown in a glade of grass and wildflowers. “I…”

He was being drawn in, just as much as the other was drawn in by himself. It was as if he had, finally, after years of searching, found the answer to a question he had never asked. The completion of his heart that hadn’t felt broken until someone had come to pick up the pieces for him.

“Am I, like, losing my mind?” Feliks whispered, so close Tolys could feel the words on his lips.

“If you are, then so am I.” Tolys pressed his forehead against Feliks’, closing his eyes momentarily. He yawned.

Feliks had trailed his free hand up along Tolys’ jaw, brushing back his hair and resting it behind his ear. He used it to angle Tolys away slightly, much to the other’s whining.

“When did you last sleep?”

“Last night,” Tolys mumbled.

“Liar.” Feliks squeezed his hand again, then began to manoeuvre Tolys into lying down, head in his lap, still holding onto his hand. “You should sleep,” he said as Tolys continued to blink up at him.

“Ah, but I’m afraid this lovely dream will end once morning comes,” Tolys said. “That you will leave me with that infernal sun.”

Feliks rolled his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic. I’ll be right here with you.”

Tolys smiled, sighing softly as he closed his eyes. Yet, still, intermittently, as he drifted between the fringes of consciousness and the sweet embrace of sleep, he found himself glancing up through his lashes, finding Feliks there, gazing up at the sky.

Finally, when Tolys no longer had the strength to fight the steady tide of sleep, Feliks‘ gazed at him, brushed his hair aside, and kissed his forehead.

**Author's Note:**

> i am only capable of writing lietpol in settings like these,,,, they are entirely too magical and ethereal,,,,


End file.
